


Sleep

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, During Canon, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-13
Updated: 2007-07-13
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8707114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: It was these moments where he was the protector.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: Thanks to Miss Meehan for the bunny!  


* * *

Sam blinked awake, clearing the flashing images from his vision. He had no real picture of what had happened, couldn't do anything about it.

 

The only thing he could be thankful of was the fact that it hadn't been a violent one, he hadn't woken Dean up like he usually did.

 

No he could do what he liked to whenever he had dreams such as these.

 

He could watch.

 

Turning slightly to the left, onto his side he settled in, arm beneath his head, blanket pushed down in the heat of the night.

 

The blinking red lights of the vacancy sign shone through the flimsy curtains, casting a dingy light upon his brothers sleeping face.

 

Dean was lying on his back, head tilted right, resting on the pillow, facing him.

 

Bee stung lips were open to let in the slightest breath, just enough to see the thinnest line of black between the mauve.

 

Stubble had grown, shadowing his face, making him seem older, rougher, contrasting with what sleeping did to his brother.

 

In sleep, his face relaxed, became slack.

 

He looked peaceful, young, and at times, carefree.

 

When the dream would show on his face and Sam would watch transfixed as eyes moved rapidly under eyelids. Perfect nose would scrunch up, distorting the light freckles, lips would twitch.

 

Or, when their was no dream shown at all, and his face was simply in its natural state.

 

It was fascinating.

 

Those eyelashes would lay, motionless, a piece of art set to admire. Lips would remain pouted, not stretched by the usual smile, full form.

 

Hair was endearing in this state, made Sam smile to see the usually neat locks spiked this way and that, everywhere. Bed hair.

 

His face would smooth out and Sam would wake up at times just to see his brother like this.

 

Where at times like these, he was the protector.


End file.
